I won!

I achieved one of my adult dreams today -- I won a contest about travelling among other travellers.

One of the great joys of travelling is meeting lots of interesting people from all over the world, all of whom have been to very cool places that I haven't. And we can sit around for hours talking about amazing places, and everytime I walk away from one of those conversations, I have 10 new places I want to go or things I want to do.

But the downside about having those conversations is that they can quickly become competitive -- who has been the most places, who has been to the most exotic places, who has done the craziest thing, etc. And while I've been to a decent number of places, I can't hope to compete in almost any category.

Don't get me wrong -- that's a good thing. I like knowing that someone has always been somewhere I haven't. It gives me a sense of humility and gives me new places to dream about going. It would be really boring to have done everything you want to do. Sad.

But still, it would be nice to taste the sweet nectar of "I've done something you haven't." And today I did. And, oh, it was lovely.

The category?

"Most desperate lengths resorted to for the sake of a souvenir"

I was sitting at a table with 3 very experienced travellers, all of whom are taking really long trips and were talking about how convenient it is to ship things home. They mentioned how crazy someone would have to be to buy something large and lug it around with them when they could just ship it home.

That was when I told the story of the passionate love between a woman and her end table.

I was in Marakkech, Morocco, dead in the middle of my 4-month backpacking trip after college graduation. My Ariel and I were walking through the souq (market), collecting marriage proposals for her and souvenirs for me. All of a sudden, I stopped dead in my tracks, my heart pounding and my breath weak. It was an end table. The most beautiful wooden piece I'd ever seen. It was a deep cherry wood, with intricate carvings on the top and sides. It wasn't sturdy or new, but I was in love.

I bought the end table and bought a bed-sized piece of green foam to wrap around it. I used string and tape to hold the foam down. It looked like a big green tooth. I threw my giant pack on my back and my end table under my arm. And I carried it like that for 2 weeks. Through 4 countries. When I squeezed into a train or hostel bunk, my end table snuggled right next to me. As I staggered through bus stations and narrow European doors, I never dreamed of abandoning it. (I was waiting until my sister came to visit me and I could send it home in a box as one of her checked luggage items).

I told the story to my new friends. Their mouths fell open. They looked at me like I was nuts. Which I am. But I'm a nut with a gorgeous end table that I love so deeply that my heart swells when I look at it. It takes me back to a glorious week in a beautiful country with my favorite travel companion. I'm a rich, lucky nut. And I wouldn't change a thing.